Wolves
by NineSoul
Summary: "He shouldn't have been out so long, he knew, but he had forgotten what night it was. Had he known, he might've left the restaurant a little sooner, but his days bled into one another, leaving him without much of an idea what day it was. But, he knew now." Werewolf!Sanji x Werewolf!Zoro. Rating... could change? Not sure. Title pending. xD
1. Wolves

**So, hi guys. As I promised (or at least I think I did xD), here is my Wolfish story. I'm not sure what title I'm gonna go with, so please make some suggestions! I've had this for a very long time and I still don't call it anything other than Wolfy!**

**Anyway, this story will be SanZo centric, (yes, SanZo, not ZoSan), with a very few planned appearances by other characters. Which will not be soon. I don't know how often I'll update, since it's taken me like a year and a half to post this, but I'll do my best. Rated T for language and mentions of nudity _thus far_. xP**

**Enjoy!**

_Shit_,_ it's getting late!_

He hurriedly dropped his keys and jacket and ran for the door. He snagged his bag off the floor as he went and slammed the door behind himself. He didn't bother with the lock; no one who could do any damage was going to break in.

He bypassed his car, giving it a longing look as if it could hear his mental apology. He really wished he could just go for a pleasant drive, but that wasn't going to happen. Not tonight.

The streets disappeared as he ran, the moonlight illuminating his surroundings such that he could see civilization fading behind him. He already knew where he was and where he was going, it didn't really matter to have visual aid, but the moonlight helped him know how much time he had. Judging by the light, he was guessing not much.

His breathing picked up with his heart rate and he pushed his legs to go faster. He needed to get further away. He could already feel it starting and that wasn't good. He shouldn't have been out so long, he knew, but he had forgotten what night it was. Had he known, he might've left the restaurant a little sooner, but his days bled into one another, leaving him without much of an idea what day it was. But, he knew now.

His muscles ached and his lungs burned, but he wasn't far enough yet. He yanked his belt off as he ran and threw it up into a tree. The forest had almost fully consumed him, but he still had to go further. A moment later, he fumbled with his tie and tossed it haphazardly at a branch. He knew it caught, but he still turned to look as he began slowing down. He turned his nose to the air and took a deep breath, smelling the clean, earthy scent of nature. He'd gone far enough, he decided.

He undid his buttons with practiced ease and flung his shirt up into a low-hanging branch that he might've hit his head on, had he kept running. His pants were already falling down so he just kicked them off and tossed them up on top of his shirt. He'd left his shoes at his apartment, so he didn't have to worry about bothering with the laces and he also wasn't wearing any socks. So, he stripped his boxers from his body and began running again, naked as a jaybird.

The aches in his muscles that had been purely from exertion sharpened, growing worse and worse. He felt like he'd been punched repeatedly in the mouth and he had to stop to catch his breath. He wasn't handling it as well as he usually did; he needed to calm down. He was already away from people. He didn't have to hurry anymore.

He strode forward as the first of his changes took hold of his body. His teeth ached horribly and he could no longer close his mouth around his canines. His hands prickled as claws grew and he threw back his head, blond hair falling everywhere as he let out a howl.

oOo

A howl pierced through the air, causing him to pause. It sounded distant. Were there wolves anywhere near his area? He didn't think so.

He started to pull off his shirt, followed by his haramaki, as another howl broke through the relative silence of the forest. The pitch sent shivers down his spine. It sounded like a good challenge if he ever heard one. He kicked his boots off and set his swords down gently. He then wrapped his clothes around the swords and put them in the case he'd brought with him. He would have preferred a bag, but he would work with what he had.

He pulled his pants off and tossed them on top of the case before wedging it up against a tree. _Just in case_. Then, he slid out of his underwear and started running towards the howl. Whatever, or whoever, had howled was definitely worth looking into.

The first of his transformation caught up with a vengeance and he nearly toppled over with the forceful pains all over his body. Several places started to stretch and break and he couldn't hold in a pained howl. He never had been very good at managing his changes, but it still shocked him every time how painful it could be. He just hoped he didn't end up doing something regrettable because of it.

His shoulders popped out of place and he did his best not to scream, but he didn't have any measurable amount of control over his body at the moment. He cried out in pain as his joints all separated and shifted; his knees snapped backwards and his ribcage exploded out against the protests of his skin, pulling it painfully tight. He fell to the ground and barely registered as another howl filled the air. He knew it wasn't his, it didn't sound like his voice. It sounded like something was coming.

He fought hard to stand and moved away from the howling. Although it had seemed like a good idea when the howl sounded like pain, possibly mid-change, now that it sounded developed, he was worried. If it was someone like him, they were obviously already fully transformed. He couldn't defend himself as he was, so he had to keep away from the other wolf. One large ripple of pain shuddered through him and he half-screamed, half-growled. His skin itched terribly and he knew he was only a minute or two away from finished.

His limbs crackled, bones extended, joints bent in ways no human joints would ever bend; backwards, sideways, both ways, all just to snap right back into place. He felt his organs doing horrible things inside his body and his change stalled. He was still in pain, but it wasn't pulsing and moving around like it had been. He wasn't finished, he knew, not yet, so he took several deep breaths and tried to induce the change. Whatever it was inside of him causing him such pain didn't need much coaxing to start up again and he howled as everything inside him expanded before anything outside of him expanded.

Dark green fur sprouted all the way down his body, claws extended from the ends of his fingers and a tail jutted out from the base of his spine as he was wrenched forward to crouch on all fours. All at once, the pain ceased and he loosened up. He padded around experimentally for a moment, just testing to see if the pain was going to come back. When it didn't, he took off running as fast as his four legs could carry him.

oOo

_Where did those cries come from?_ He turned left and right, but he couldn't hear any other howls. _I could swear it sounded like pain._

He let out an involuntary whine as he peered into the darkness. He could see every flower and every rock through the darkness, hear every owl hooting and cricket chirping, and smell every sleeping woodland creature for miles around, but he couldn't detect any sign of another wolf. He didn't suppose he'd know what to do if he encountered another wolf, but it seemed like a safe enough idea. He'd never seen another of his kind before, though he'd smelled them once before and knew of their existence. He wasn't conceited enough to believe that he was the one and only werewolf.

Another of the pained howls sounded through the night and he darted towards the cry. He felt like he needed to help them, whoever they were. The howls were only half-wolf, though, he could tell. _They must be having trouble with changing_, he figured.

Then, he caught the scent.

He couldn't have described it in words, even if he wanted to. It was indisputably wolf, and it was powerful and delicious. He'd never smelled anything quite as intriguing as that scent, so he followed it. His paws barely made a sound as he dashed in the direction of the scent. He knew that if he could smell them, they could probably smell him, and he didn't want the other wolf to run away.

After a minute, he could hear the other wolf moving, without any consideration towards making itself quiet. That wolf was searching him out. He would have grinned if he'd still had the human capability to do so, but his wolf-lips just twitched in a menacing sort of way. He was kind of searching out the other wolf, too, so that wolf was making it easier on him. He could smell the other wolf closer now. He wanted to see it, to really _know_ that he wasn't alone.

Another howl; different, but the same. The other wolf was calling him; he could hear it in the tone. So, he answered. He threw his head back as he ran and howled with all his might. It was a signal. "I'm here," he was saying. The sound of the other wolf's breathing and footsteps changed, altered just a little bit and he found himself altering with them.

The welcoming, calm, creature-free silence of wide open space beckoned him into a clearing. He recognized it as a place neighborhood teenagers would come to hang out and get high, but it was empty tonight. _Not for long_, he thought. The other wolf was close, and he ached to just cover the rest of the distance to find it, to see it, but he stayed put. He didn't know if the other wolf was friendly or if it would try to rip him to pieces.

He had to be prepared for anything.

oOo

The sounds stopped, except for panting. He slowed his own movements and carefully stepped forward. At the edge of a clearing, he halted. He wasn't unconfident or lacking in the kind of stupidity it took to be brave, but even as reckless as he could be, it didn't seem smart to just step out into the open. He could fend for himself if the opportunity arose, and he'd be damn good at it, too, but he was new in town. And, he didn't know much about wolf-culture, but if the other wolf had claimed the land or some shit he might not want to cross it. Something about "territorial" or another nature-documentary type word crossed his mind, but he disregarded it. The other wolf didn't smell particularly dangerous. At best he would say it smelled cautious of him as well. But, he wouldn't know one way or the other if he didn't step out.

Carefully, he padded out into the clearing, revealing himself wholly to the other wolf. He could see the dark shape hidden from the moonlight by the cover of trees. The shadow creature stepped out into the clearing with him and his jaw nearly touched the ground. He'd never seen another wolf, never even seen himself as a wolf, so it was a sight to behold.

The other wolf was white in the moonlight, but upon closer inspection it looked more like platinum blond. It shone like the full moon itself as it stood tall on four legs, head held high in a show of power. It had a lean build, skinnier than him, he was sure, but it still managed to look strong, like it could hold its own in a fight. What threw him was the eyebrow. Set aside the fact that wolves don't have eyebrows, it was fucking _curly_.

_"What's with your eyebrow?"_ he asked, hoping the rumors he'd heard were true, and wolves could understand each other. It occurred to him a moment later that perhaps that wasn't the best greeting in the world, but it was already out.

The white-blond wolf recoiled slightly, its deep blue eyes seeming to blink in confusion. _Well, I guess he heard me_, he thought.

_"My... huh? Are you trying to pick a fight?"_ It was a strange voice, almost like subtitles across the inside of his eyelids. It wasn't really a voice, although he could hear some sort of short growling sound coming from the blond wolf.

It was awesome, he decided.

oOo

He stared at the dark green wolf, having trouble even with his enhanced eyesight seeing its nearly black form against the foliage. He had never communicated with anyone while he was a wolf before, so he was thoroughly gobsmacked that the dark wolf could just strut out into the clearing and start talking. Insulting him, no less. It wasn't like the wolf's mouth actually moved. No, it was more like the voice of someone in a dream. It was there, because they really were saying things, but it didn't have any describable or distinguishable qualities. But, damn, it sounded good.

_"I might be. You gonna fight me?"_ the dark wolf spoke, or thought, or whatever.

The pale wolf shrugged the best he could as a wolf, his sharp shoulder blades coming up behind his ears. It occurred to him when he saw the other wolf's reaction that that looked more threatening than nonchalant. _"Er, I meant to shrug... Can't do that without human shoulders..."_ he said carefully, not quite sure if the other wolf was in fight-mode or flight-mode, but certain that something was about to happen.

_"You're... like me?"_ the dark wolf asked, his voiceless words sounding hesitant. The blond wolf nodded and immediately knew that gesture got across the right way. The dark green wolf took a cautious step forward, seeming to size him up as it slowly moved away from the trees.

_"I've never met another werewolf before,"_ the green wolf stated, and he shook his head.

_"Me either,"_ he said, stepping up carefully to get a closer look at the dark wolf. Not that his eyesight was lacking, he just had to see.

The dark wolf dipped his head a bit lower then lifted it up again, examining him as much as he was examining the dark wolf. _"I feel like we should be fighting or something... Like, for territory."_ The dark wolf's soundless voice spoke in a way that made him sound reluctant to act on such a proposition.

_"You wanna? I'm kinda hyper right now,"_ he suggested and the dark wolf made an odd snort-sounding exhale.

_"Sounds like a plan to me."_ The other wolf lowered his head until it was nearly resting on his front paws.

He watched its muscled frame move under the short, dark hair and felt himself get excited. The dark wolf was much the same size as himself, just with a bit more muscle and he had a feral gleam to his eyes that made the pale wolf's skin prickle. It was going to be fun fighting the dark wolf.

He crouched as well and the dark wolf flew forward in a blur. He could still dodge it, yes, but he didn't want to. He lunged and met the dark wolf halfway, tackling it to the ground and stepping on its chest lightly with one paw. He grinned down at the dark wolf and it grinned back up at him.

_"Strong."_ The dark wolf's chest rumbled in sort of a purr before he rolled away and pounced on the blond.

He struggled against the dark wolf's strength, matching him move for move. _"You're surprisingly good at this,"_ the pale wolf commented in his subtitled monotone.

The dark wolf snorted as they jumped away from each other, taking a breath. _"You too. I was expecting an amateur,"_ the dark wolf said, jerking his head to the side in an odd gesture. It seemed like arrogance.

He decided he didn't like the gesture and stood up on his back legs. He didn't normally do so, it left his belly vulnerable, but he felt it necessary to show the other wolf what he was truly dealing with. His shape wasn't exactly like that of a normal wolf; although he was slim in all the right places to be a wolf, he was also built like a bear in the way he stood. He had learned after one extremely eventful transformation that it shocked people to see a "skinny polar bear" in the woods in the middle of the night.

The dark wolf made a breathy huffing sound while his subtitle voice painted an unreal and indescribable interpretation of laughter. _"Cool trick,"_ the dark wolf said, pushing up with his front paws to stand on his back legs as well. They were the same height for all intents and purposes, but the darker wolf was definitely a creature built for fighting. Perhaps he did fight a lot. Perhaps the blond was in over his head. But, he didn't care.

_"I win,"_ the dark wolf said, taking a wobbly step forwards like a human child. Except, huge and hairy.

The pale wolf snorted, lifting his chin slightly. _"You haven't even seen the cool part."_

oOo

He watched the pale wolf take a much steadier step than he himself had and crouch down until he was almost on all fours again. Then the blond wolf shot up and he wasn't on the ground anymore, he was in the air and flying over the green wolf to land quite a ways behind him. He whirled around to look at the pale wolf, which appeared to be smirking at him.

"_That's not anything special,_" he snorted and the pale wolf threw his head back and barked a laugh that, despite being very mocking, amused the dark wolf. He had the strangest urge to be closer to the pale wolf that, surprisingly, wasn't just to rip his throat out; although that sounded like something he would enjoy doing to the haughty blond wolf.

The pale wolf crouched again and lunged forward as only a white smear in mid-air. The green wolf ducked down onto all fours, but somehow the blond wolf still got him. He was forced back by a blow to his mid-section that he would not soon forget and he hit the packed dirt hard, effectively losing any chance at breathing for the next few agonizing seconds. He turned over onto his side and wheezed, trying to get some small amount of air into his lungs, but it wasn't working quite the way he hoped. He whined pathetically, though with what air, he did not know.

The white-blond wolf came up next to him and he bared his teeth at it, not even having enough air to communicate the way he had been before. The blond wolf ignored him, however, and stepped closer, on four legs again. The pale wolf nudged his chest with its snout and he snarled at it. "_Back off._"

He stood up with some difficulty and made his best effort to breathe, but it wasn't enough. He'd never had the wind knocked out of him nearly so hard. The pale wolf stepped around him and pressed its paw into his back, somewhere he couldn't see and would rather not ever be touched by anyone or anything without his consent. He reared back and growled at the other wolf. "_Leave me alone!"_ he snarled.

The pale wolf lowered his head slightly, but he didn't make any effort to move away. Instead, he hopped up on his back legs and put one of his paws in the middle of the green wolf's back, on a pressure point. Suddenly the dark wolf gasped in enough air to fill his lungs and exhaled only to repeat the action several more times. He looked at the blond wolf. Was it trying to apologize? Damn, it was kind of working. But, he wasn't going to take it easy on that bastard-wolf.

Seeming to sense this, the blond wolf grinned a wolfy, feral grin at him and took off running. "_I will kick your ass!_" he roared after the pale wolf and sprung out into a run. He caught mere glimpses of the white fur amongst all the foliage and, at one point, he felt that he was the one being chased. But, damn, it was fun.

He didn't know why it was fun, they were really just running, but it was exciting and he was pumped full of adrenaline. He howled for the hell of it, letting the other wolf know he was still in pursuit. And pursuit it was, dashing through the forest without a care in the world, including if he actually caught the other wolf, who had disappeared from his sight, but not from his other senses. He panted heavily and slowed down so he could listen for its steps or catch the pale wolf's scent. The smell of the blond wolf was everywhere at once and he would've face-palmed but he liked the smell. It was good. It was warm and delicious and it surrounded him. That would make tracking the other wolf much more difficult, though.

A soft, furry force caught him in the side and he fell to the ground with a wriggling ball of white on top of him. "_Gotcha. Caught on to my little scheme, did you?"_ the pale wolf asked, burying his nose in the green wolf's fur and nipping at the skin underneath. For a moment, the green wolf wasn't sure if that was okay or not, but he decided he trusted the blond wolf enough not to hurt him.

"_Why do I trust you?"_ he asked the pale wolf, so suddenly that he was sure the thought hadn't even passed through his brain for approval before he spoke it. He supposed he wanted to know the answer, but he hadn't planned to go about getting it in such a blunt manner. Although, he was never one to beat around the bush.

The pale wolf's chest rumbled in neither a growl nor a purr, more of a hum. "_I don't know. Maybe it's a wolf thing?"_ the blond wolf said, climbing off of the green wolf and yawning widely to the dirt.

The dark wolf rolled onto his feet and sat down next to the pale wolf, blinking his tired, blurry eyes. "_I've never felt this before. It _must _be a wolf thing."_ He padded over to a grassy spot and curled up, not sparing a second thought towards the stranger-wolf whom he had met only hours before and didn't even know the name of. He supposed he should ask, but he didn't care. They were good as they were.

oOo

The dark wolf settled into the grass and he swallowed hard. He wanted to sleep there, too. He didn't want to take the space from the dark wolf; he wanted to be there with it. He wanted to curl up around the dark wolf and make sure it was safe and actually there. But, he had to get back to somewhere near his clothes. He had work in the morning, so he needed to be able to get back to his apartment quickly. He'd dropped his bag somewhere near where he started to transform, so he should probably go find it.

With a sigh, he turned and moved towards the scent of anise. He'd been sure to put some on his bag during every transformation so he could find the duffel bag full of clean clothes, a washcloth, two bottles of water and some breakfast bars.

"_Where are you going?"_ The dark wolf's voiceless words stopped him.

He looked over his shoulder and did his best at an apologetic look. "_I... have to go find my bag. So I can clean up and get dressed when I wake up. I kinda have a job,"_ he said, hoping the subtitle words conveyed even a small amount of the regret he was feeling. He didn't want to let the only other werewolf he'd ever seen out of his sight, but he had a human life that he needed to tend to.

The dark wolf snorted and stood, stretching his back and his front legs before walking up to the pale wolf. Then he nodded in the direction the pale wolf had been heading before the dark wolf had spoken. He understood. The other wolf was asking if he could go too. And he wasn't about to refuse. "_You better not be a really shitty human when I wake up,"_ he half-threatened. But, he didn't really care. He'd found another werewolf.

"_Haha. Same to you, bastard."_ The dark wolf's echoing subtitled voice laughed, and the blond turned his head to look at him. He leaned over and, for the life of him he didn't know why, he licked the dark wolf's pointed ear. The other wolf turned to look at him, but he didn't say anything.

They walked to the sounds of the forest until they came across the black duffel bag with a mesh pouch of anise hanging by a string tied around one of the straps. "_Oh, is that the smell?"_ the dark wolf grumbled, scratching at the bag of anise with one of his front paws and tearing the bag open, although he put no real effort into it. The dark green wolf glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, as if checking to see if he'd noticed, but quickly turned back to face forward. "_It smells like shit._" The dark wolf huffed, padding some distance away from the bag and plopping down, seemingly without a care in the world.

"_I put it on there so I could find my bag again, after running around in the forest for who knows how long,_" he explained, pawing at the star anise indicatively before moving over to where the dark wolf lay. He still didn't have any version of permission to lay down with the other wolf, so he trotted over to an adjacent tree and curled up at its base so that he was facing the dark wolf's resting form. Like that, he fell asleep.

The morning came cruelly and much too soon, but he'd had a great night's sleep. It wasn't something that happened often, especially not on the night of the full moon. It felt awesome. He stretched to his fullest length while he was lying flat on his back on the ground. He vaguely realized that he was naked as the day he was born, but he didn't much care. He'd been a werewolf for long enough that he was fine to lie in the nude for a while every month. He groaned at the awful soreness possessing his muscles, but that was par for the course.

Suddenly, he remembered the dark green wolf and his head snapped to the side.

Where the dark green wolf had been, there was a man. A well-muscled, tanned man, in all his naked glory, marked with five long scratches from his left shoulder to his right hip, with a patch of green hair like moss on top of his head. Truly strange, but it was a better-looking man than he had been expecting.

The patch of moss moved partially out of view as the tanned man turned to face him, blinking owlishly. "Wha...?" The moss-head opened his mouth to make a confused sound, staring at him, all up and down and _in the middle_.

"Hi."

"... Yeah."

"'Member me?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Sanji, by the way."

"Roronoa Zoro. So..."

"Mmm... Werewolves, huh?"

"Looks like."

"..."

**... So. What do you think? xD Tell me in reviews! And if you have any title ideas (as whatever I have gone with at this point probably sucks), please, please, PLEASEEEEE let me know! I really need to name this story for good! xD**


	2. Awkward

**So, this one-month delay thingy was on purpose. I still haven't done like... anything for chapter 4, but I'll be posting chapter 3 on March 1st or somewhere thereabouts. I will say that I'm glad people like this story. I thought it would be... not as well received as my other ideas, but after Tree!Zoro, you really can't get much weirder. xD**

**Some fraction of this story is older material, but I think most of it is new. I don't know if you'll notice the change, but still. You are informed. xP**

**Anyhow, enjoy~**

Sanji glanced over at Zoro, yet again and barely restrained a sigh. He didn't know what to do. Obviously, he'd never been in a "morning after" situation with another werewolf before. He'd handled it well enough to begin with, giving Zoro a pair of extra sweats from his bag and letting him have a bottle of water and some cereal bars. He ate a fucking lot, but that was fine. Sanji wasn't really hungry. He didn't know what he was feeling at all, but hunger didn't compute.

The blond fiddled with the sleeves of his button down shirt and Zoro looked over at him. "Why do you keep fidgeting? You got some sort of mental problem?" Zoro asked rudely, raising an eyebrow at Sanji.

His eye twitched and he glared at Zoro. "You're one to talk. What's with that speech pattern, anyway? Are you in a gang or something?" Sanji retorted.

Zoro growled at him, baring his teeth as his fangs extended threateningly. "Dart-brow bastard! Do I look like a gang member to you?"

"Yes. Yes, you do," Sanji answered calmly. He could feel his own fangs start to grow longer at the threat of a fight, but he controlled it. Looking at Zoro, he wondered how long he'd been a wolf that he let himself show it so freely. "How long have you been a wolf?" Sanji heard himself asking.

Zoro's snarling face dropped on a moment's notice and his eyes widened a little. "... Long enough," he grumbled, his nose scrunching up and his eyes flashing to the green-ish black they had been while he was a wolf. Sanji instantly grew curious.

"How long is 'long enough?'" Sanji questioned, walking a little bit closer to Zoro as they trekked through the forest.

The other man stiffened and set his shoulders. "Long. Enough," he said sharply. Sanji saw his claws starting to grow out as Zoro walked out in front of him. Zoro's heart rate picked up and he started to hyperventilate. He couldn't control it.

"Calm down. Hold your breath," Sanji instructed, keeping his voice level. It had been a while since he himself had been out of control enough to start to change with a simple temper flare. Sanji stepped forward to try and help, but Zoro turned on him, growling defensively. The blond held his ground, staring levelly at Zoro. "I was bitten a little over two and a half years ago, one day out from the full moon." He offered the information up as sort of a peace gesture and Zoro relaxed slightly.

"You're old," Zoro stated blandly. Sanji fought back a retort and barely kept his face straight. He could feel a bit of a scowl on his face, something that was unintentional, but he had a feeling it was his inner wolf shining through a little, because Zoro twitched. He looked somewhat intimidated, which Sanji could probably credit towards his new-found knowledge of the blond's age in dog years.

"I'm twenty-two, thanks," Sanji said tightly.

The corner of Zoro's mouth twitched up in a hint of a smirk. "But, add on what? Nearly twenty-one dog years? Old," Zoro said, a stupid grin on his face as he rolled his eyes away from Sanji.

He wasn't entirely sure why, but that made his claws extend and his werewolf fangs pierce his human lips. Sanji found himself knocking Zoro to the ground with a kick that he really didn't mean to deliver and resting his foot on his chest. Zoro stared up at him with wide eyes, his hands half up in a confused attempt to do something. "Wha- the fuck? Get off of me!" Zoro snapped. Sanji reluctantly backed off and Zoro bounced back up as if he hadn't just been pinned to the ground by a skinny blond.

Zoro glared at him and stormed away, looking around. Sanji followed him hurriedly, thinking about asking if he was lost, but deciding against it. "Uh... Sorry, I don't know- I don't usually-" Sanji didn't know why he was trying to apologize when Zoro obviously wasn't listening to him, or why he was trying to apologize at all, since he didn't actually do anything wrong. It was Zoro's fault, anyway, for making Sanji go in the complete opposite direction of his apartment building, therefore putting him in a bit of a bad mood, and then calling him old. He wasn't old, damn it.

"Didn't you say you have a job? Go the fuck away," Zoro snarled, not looking back as he started to pick up his pace.

Sanji matched his stride easily and came up beside him. "Calm down, will you? Only guilty people act this strange," Sanji said, in an attempt to put Zoro in a better mindset. Needless to say, it didn't work.

Zoro slammed an elbow into Sanji's gut, knocking the air out of him before punching him in the side of the head and sending him to the ground. He leapt on Sanji's supine form as the blond gasped for air, digging his clawed hands into Sanji's shoulders. "Leave. Me. Alone," Zoro growled in Sanji's face. Bright blue eyes looked back at him, narrowed with what had to be defiance. Zoro dug his claws harder into Sanji's shoulders, shoving the blond farther into the grass.

"You need to get off me, now," Sanji said dangerously. The blond took a deep breath to try and calm himself so he wouldn't rip Zoro's head off.

Zoro glared at him. "Or what? You'll beat me with your wolf experience? I don't think so," Zoro spat.

Sanji gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, willing away the instinct that was always brought up by anger or pain. In this case, both. He gripped Zoro's arms just below the shoulders and threw his weight, causing them to flip over. His shoulders screamed with the action, but he knew they would heal quickly once Zoro got his claws out.

"It's not about experience, jackass. It's about the wolf inside of me wanting to defend itself, but the human in me nat wanting to hurt you. I might be persuaded to change my mind, though," Sanji threatened. Zoro fidgeted under him and tried to knee Sanji in the crotch, but the blond sat on his legs. "Remove your claws from my arms, now, before I do something I _might_ regret," Sanji hissed. Zoro flexed his fingers and Sanji winced at the pain. The other wolf grinned sadistically and slowly pulled his claws down towards his own chest, ripping the skin of Sanji's arms through his shirt and causing blood to trickle down.

Sanji felt his face shifting, his snout elongating, his eyes tingling, and his fangs growing out past his lips. He was having a lot of trouble containing himself, which was not normal for him. He let out a warning growl that was also not his normal behavior, but he had to do something. If he didn't sufficiently warn Zoro, more than one wolf's blood would be shed.

Zoro finally seemed to get the message when his eyes grew wide and his claws retracted so suddenly that it caused Sanji to jerk in pain. Zoro pulled his hands back and didn't even attempt to speak. Sanji could smell the caution on Zoro and briefly wondered what his face might look like.

The blond relinquished his grip on Zoro's arms and eased up on the wolf. "Now that we've got that sorted," he said sarcastically, "why don't you tell me what you're looking for in this forest?"

Zoro fixed his wary expression into something of a challenging glare. "My clothes and my swords. No offense, but you're clothes smell shitty," Zoro answered, with not a drop of his anxiety sounding in his voice. Sanji hummed to show he'd heard him, readjusting himself on top of Zoro's legs. The other wolf's eyes flickered to the movement and back up again, but Sanji noticed.

"Want me to get off of you? Then tell me something. How long have you been a wolf?" Sanji taunted, sitting more firmly on Zoro's thighs.

The green-haired werewolf growled. "Four months. Happy?" he grumbled through clenched teeth. Sanji pushed himself up with his knees and stepped away from Zoro. He felt a little bad knowing that Zoro was so young, but he couldn't undo what he'd already done.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Sanji asked, tucking his hands in his pockets. Blood was still dripping down his arms from where Zoro shredded him, but he would have to deal with that later.

Zoro picked his legs up a little and kicked out enough to throw himself into an up-right standing position. He dusted off his borrowed clothes, smearing some of Sanji's blood off of his fingertips in the process and starting to walk away. Sanji wanted to go with him and make sure that he would see the other werewolf again sometime, even though Zoro seemed to be rather rude and annoying and violent and pissed. He just didn't want to be on his own anymore.

"Hey," Sanji called. Zoro didn't stop walking away, but Sanji knew he could still hear him. "You... I can tell you need help with your transformation."

Zoro froze. "I don't need your help," he said sharply.

The blond nodded, smirking. "Yeah, okay. Well, since you don't need my help, I live in the East Blue apartment building not far from here, room fourty-three," Sanji said, turning and walking back in the direction of his discarded clothes from the night before. He knew he shouldn't push too hard, since that would more than likely send Zoro away, but if the other wolf didn't turn up on his doorstep in the next few days, he would probably go and search him out.

oOo

_Shit. Shit. Fucking shit!_ Zoro growled in frustration and punched a tree, leaving a splintered indentation in the shape of his fist. Stupid, shitty-blond. Why did he have to show up? Zoro had only planned to stay out the full moon, then skip town like he always did. But, he just _had_ to screw over any chances of a peaceful mind he might have had by finding and hanging out with the platinum-blond werewolf. He should've known it was a bad idea just by the fact that he had found another werewolf. Nothing was ever that simple.

Zoro could smell his wolf scent among the trees, lingering like a thin fog covering the ground. He could smell Sanji, too. A little different from his human smell, and a lot less obvious than it had been the night before, but it was there. He couldn't decide if he liked the smell or not, but he didn't have much choice; the scent was everywhere. The stupid blond must be either really clumsy, or really smart. No one would be able to track him down, if they took the notion to. At least, until his scent faded from the tree trunks and grass, leaving only his recent trails behind.

Through all that, he could only just barely smell his case full of swords. Under the smell of wet dirt and birds and squirrels, he could hardly locate his own possessions, things that he had with him all day, every day. He could still tell where they were, yes, but it was difficult. _I wonder what that shitty-smelling stuff is called..._

Zoro stopped himself short at that thought. That shitty-smelling stuff? Meaning, the stuff _Sanji_ had put on _his_ bag to find _his_ stuff? No. That's not what Zoro meant at all. He wouldn't accept any help from that stupid curly-brow, not even a simple trick for finding his stuff the morning after the full moon.

Before he knew it, he had almost walked right past his case and his clothes. Zoro had veered off to the left, but he noticed the error quick enough and stomped over to his clothes before he got too far. It really didn't do him well to think so much.

Not quite as quickly as he could have, Zoro changed out of Sanji's sweats and into his own clothes. He then balled up the sweatpants and considered tossing them on the ground and leaving them there, but instead he put the sweatpants in the old leather case with his swords. If he ever ran into that dartboard again, he'd give them back. Of course, he'd have to wash the hell out of his swords to get the smell of that damn blond out of them, but he would do that even if he hadn't kept the pants.

_Damn that sounded creepy..._ Zoro rubbed his temple with one hand and gripped the handles of his sword case tightly in the other. He should dispose of those pants at the earliest possible opportunity. With fire.

Straightening his back, Zoro started walking with purpose towards the sounds of population. He didn't usually visit populated areas so soon after the full moon, or very often at all, really, but he was getting hungry. He told himself he'd try to stay away from larger crowds of people if he really had to go into the city, but he always had a knack for getting himself lost in the concrete jungle. It was the fault of the mixed smells, he was sure.

On his way to wherever there was food, Zoro couldn't help it, honestly, he couldn't. He thought about that stupid blond. It wasn't everyday he met another person in his situation. In fact, he never had before. And, he still hadn't, according to what he was telling himself. But it was valid and it was too much not to think about. Another werewolf. Someone he could maybe talk to if he could get past the part about Sanji being insufferable. He'd likely go over it a million more times, probably say it out loud just as many times before he even came close to believing it, in complete disregard of the fact that they'd spent almost the entire night running with the man while they were both large, hairy wolf-creatures.

Someone bumped his shoulder, extracting him from his thoughts and bringing him to notice he was, once again, among civilization. Zoro cast an annoyed look over his shoulder at whomever had bumped him as he walked on, straightening his bag of swords and sweats compulsively. He had never liked people's indifference towards anyone but themselves, but that dislike only intensified when he became a werewolf. His teeth regularly put holes through his lips and he'd ruined more than a few sets of clothes with his claws and accidental transformations in only four months of werewolfdom. According to everything in life he'd ever heard people profess about, it would get easier. He wasn't sure though.

"Hey, you in the green! Want to buy some hand-crafted pottery? Our serving bowls are half off, today only!" a shopkeeper shouted as he passed, following Zoro down the sidewalk. "These kinds of vases work well for apartments and other living spaces! Whaddaya think?"

"I'm good, thanks," Zoro said as politely as possible, despite his offense at being targeted for a homey item when he didn't even have a home. It didn't usually bother him, but with a ferocious dog-creature just beneath his skin, he found it hard not to be bothered. He doubted anyone would blame him for it if they knew._ I wonder if he has the same trouble..._

Zoro stopped again, cursing not quietly enough as an old couple came out of the shop he'd been walking past. They shook their heads at him and he apologized quickly. When they turned on to a different street, he facepalmed. Great. Five minutes in town and he was already making a bad impression. He had to stop thinking of Sanji before he accidentally kicked a baby and burned down a hospital or something equally outrageous.

He was being ridiculous, he knew. It was stupid to blame his bad timing and misfortune on a guy he just met. Then again, that guy was kind of a dumbass. And annoying. And presumptuous and haughty and snarky and idiotic. Actually, now that he was thinking about it, it was completely logical to blame him. Meeting an older werewolf is probably the worst thing that could've happened to him next to being discovered by normal humans, so he had a good enough reason to blame that guy for at least a few of his problems.

Traffic whirred past as Zoro collected himself and rid his mind of all things large, hairy and blond. He had to find a cheap place to eat and maybe a couch to ride for the night and all that would be immensely easier if he weren't distracted.

Zoro looked around, breathing in the smell of humanity and all they had to eat. He hadn't quite mastered his enhanced senses yet so it took a minute for him to focus on just smells, not the whole mystifying package. The pungent aroma of less-than-fresh seafood was making that task just a little bit less confusing. At least he knew where he definitely _wasn't_ going to go. The smell of raw fish hadn't bothered him so much when he was human, but now he wasn't sure how he could carelessly walk into whatever eating establishment without throwing up.

Sifting past the rotten fishy smell as best he could, Zoro closed his eyes and focused on a very spicy smell. In his experience, spice was often used to cover up quality, or the lack thereof, so he headed in the direction of that scent. People gave him strange looks as he passed them on his way to food, maybe because of the hair, maybe because he was sniffing the air. Didn't matter. _I'm not that strange, but whatever..._

Somehow, the smell didn't get any closer, no matter which direction he went. That was always happening to him. Super senses didn't help him at all in that respect. Zoro could never get anywhere on time and he always ended up wandering in the dark for one thing or another. He didn't feel like he could do that, not today. He might just have to hurt somebody if he didn't get some food and some rest. In fact, there was already a blond on his "to hurt" list.

The green-haired man sighed in frustration, missing his human life. He just wanted to go about his routine normally, maybe even stay in one place for more than a day, and even if he hadn't done anything worth avoiding as a wolf, he just couldn't stay. He had other, more important things to do anyway. There wasn't any time for homesickness, he told himself.

Late morning became afternoon soon enough and Zoro's ears were ringing with the sounds of mindless chatter and his own stomach. Damn, he hated people at times like that. How was so much time passing? He'd only just gotten to town, there was no way it had been hours, no way at all.

But, even if he didn't want to believe it, he could see that the sun had moved and he could see the change in the types of people that were out. He needed to find somewhere to stay the night before long, he knew. There were too many people around him, invading his space and suffocating his patience and thinking about it made him that much more aware of it.

If one person so much as looked at him wrong, he didn't know what he'd do. As indirectly as they had affected his passage to food and safety, he couldn't help feeling snappish towards the humans. The approaching night was making him antsy. He hated that, but it had happened every time so far. He'd start to feel it late in the afternoon and heaven forbid he got into a fight... _No, I can't even think about this. I need to stop._

Zoro spotted a little diner by chance and ducked in for a breather. His insides were unsettled by the smell of greasy food, or maybe they were already unsettled, but the roiling in his guts did nothing for his nerves. It felt like animals were gnawing at the frayed ends of his wits, shredding the invisible rope down to a thread.

"Would you like me to show you to a table, sir?" A brunette woman in a light blue uniform dress intercepted his path, holding half a dozen menus to her chest. He could smell the annoyance on her, hear the faleseness of the cheer in her voice. "Sir?"

"No. No, thanks," Zoro answered shortly, making a bee-line for the bar. He didn't know what he could really get at a small, hole-in-the-wall establishment, but he needed something to distract him. Preferably something with a numbing effect.

oOo

His head was pounding like he was being hit with a meat tenderizer. It hadn't hurt so bad in the morning, so he'd taken the lunch shift at the restaurant, but as the day progressed his whole body started to revolt. It felt like his insides were trying to jump out in every direction. The pain was similar in a lot of ways to the change, and certainly he'd had what he called aftershocks of that pain before, but they hadn't been that strong in a long time. Since his second full moon, if he remembered correctly.

Sanji fumbled through his pockets for the key card that would let him into the apartment building, only briefly glancing at the purple sky that he would normally admire for minutes on end. He just needed to spend the night in, that's what he was telling himself. Just a little isolation, a lot of sleep, and tomorrow he'd be good as new. The pain was troubling nonetheless, but Sanji knew it would be over soon.

_Hopefully_, he thought dully. There was no way he could actually know and every time it felt like it would last forever, so hoping was the best he could do. But, he tried to keep that fact from himself. While he had a full-body headache was not the best time to be pessimistic.

The smell of night people boxed him in, that awful itching feeling he hadn't had trouble with in over a year possessing his skin. He didn't know what was different. He knew the signs; they were all suggesting his other half wanted out. He just didn't know why. The compelling, sick urge to explode out of his own skin just to feel better, something he'd learned to control a long time ago, was driving him just about to the edge. But, what had _changed_?

_Now, _that _was a stupid question_, Sanji thought suddenly, his hurried pace faltering. Painfully fresh memories of a dark green wolf and a dark-skinned man flooded his brain and the impulse to howl nearly brought him to his knees. He didn't know how that slipped his mind, if only for a moment. That revelation, that man, that was a _big_ change. As he though about it more, it seemed like maybe his wolf-self wanted to meet Zoro's wolf-self again. That made sense. A hell of a lot of sense, actually, but Sanji didn't know if he could make that happen. Never mind letting go of his control and willingly becoming a wolf, it felt like it was too soon to be going after Zoro.

Something that most certainly did not resemble a whine rose in the back of his throat. Grown men did not whine or pout, after all, and badass werewolves sure as hell weren't supposed to. There must have been some other reason for those three girls to give him odd looks of pity as he passed them. Definitely not because he made a very pitiable sound and was making a matching face. That was not something he did or ever would do. Not at all.

The cook sighed when he finally saw his building and hurried to it, defying the imagined capacity of his strained, aching muscles. His pulse thudded in his ears and his hands shook something awful. He could feel a rippling sort of pull under his skin, a foreboding chill that always meant he was about to turn. And he almost just wanted to give in to it. But he couldn't do that, not after nearly three years of fighting it.

Sanji was practically running up the stairs, going over a few recipes in his head to distract himself. He wasn't having much luck, but he was almost there, almost to the sanctity of his apartment with all his very human belongings. Including but not limited to chamomile tea and blues records that would bring him back down to earth. One more flight and he was home free.

The shaking in his limbs was so violent it was all he could do not to trip. He felt like he was going to throw up and the pounding in his ears sounded about like barking it was so loud. The pain straining his muscles, threatening to turn him inside out it felt like, increased even further. He hadn't felt so much like he was going to die since his first transformation. Why was it getting _worse_? He didn't understand. It felt like his wolf-self was making a break for it. Running away and taking every muscle and nerve it had ever affected with it.

Sanji stumbled around the corner, smacking his shoulder on the wall and not caring a thing about it. One more turn, twenty feet, that's all. Just twenty feet and he could relax. Only a few more steps and- _What's that smell?_

Everything in his body seemed to align with itself again, restoring an almost unreal feeling of normality. That _smell_. That familiar and foreign, salty and spicy, human and wolf smell. It couldn't be. That would be completely against every rule the universe seemed to have to prevent Sanji's happiness and/or mental well-being. It absolutely could not, no matter how much his nose insisted, be Zoro.

Despite telling himself that, Sanji hurried towards the smell and, coincidentally, his door. He flung himself around the corner and the smell hit him hard in the face, nearly knocking him off his feet. Through the practically palpable cloud of Zoro's scent, he could barely focus his eyes on the hunched figure leaning against his door. But after a minute, it was perfectly clear. Zoro was standing there, his face elongated outward to form a small snout, his shoulders horrifically uneven, his nails grown out two inches long and his clothes a rumpled, sweat-stained mess. He didn't look up at Sanji, but the cook knew he had been acknowledged. From the focused frown on Zoro's face, Sanji figured he was too singularly concentrated on not changing to do much else. That was very, very bad. "Oi... what happened?" he asked Zoro, taking quick steps towards him and putting his arms out to help in whatever way he could.

"Shitty... fucking... asshole. Are you gonna... help me or... not?!" Zoro snapped, his voice verging on an animal growl.

**By the way, I am super bored. Like, so bored. That's why I'm posting this a day early. Appreciate it, readers, because it is all that is keeping me from shooting a smiley face into the wall. xD**

**But aside from that! What do you guys think? Getting better or weirder? Probs both. But answer anyway! I wanna know what you think of my storyyyy!**


	3. Unprecedented

**Oh my God, I am SO sorry everyone. I completely spaced! I know, only two days late, but two days is two days. I started my first real job ever (including paycheck, thanyouverymuch) on February 27th and I kind of have a shitty-ass shift for getting any writing done, but it's only 4 days a week. (Unless something changes, which I doubt it will.) Anyway, I got super duper distracted, but I'm back now. ;)))**

**Here's chapter 3 for you all, and I shall be posting chapter 4 the nearest to April 1st as I can manage. Enjoy!**

"It's not working," Zoro complained for the fifth time.

"Just keep at it," Sanji instructed, putting the tea leaves in the kettle and pulling it off the stove. He could still hear the dull crunch of bones shifting slowly. He was, quite frankly, surprised that he couldn't smell mistrust on Zoro, since the younger wolf wasn't listening to him at all. Didn't he know that if he just listened to Sanji he wouldn't be having any problems?

The aroma of incense and chamomile were about enough to relax Sanji to sleep, but Zoro was still huffing and fidgeting. He hadn't calmed down much since he'd shown up outside Sanji's apartment door half-transformed, which he still had not explained to Sanji. Zoro had seemed at least a bit more like he had his act together before this, like he could contain himself. Something must have happened, Sanji concluded gravely.

Sanji poured the tea into two delicate china cups, which he'd always found promoted tranquility, and placed the cups and the pot on the silver tray that he rarely used. As a last-second thing, he placed the tiny clay pot of incense on the tray and then headed back into the living room. Zoro was sitting in the middle of his rug, where the coffee table had been, shuddering almost audibly. His legs were crossed lotus-style, the way Sanji had told him to, but he was hunched forward, not sitting up straight. Sanji pursed his lips. It was going to be very difficult to help if Zoro didn't start listening properly.

"Here." The cook sat down in the floor facing Zoro and put the tray down in the little space between them. He picked up one of the cups and held it out to Zoro. "Drink," he ordered firmly.

Zoro glared at him from beneath a heavily furrowed and sweat-beaded brow. He didn't even reach out for the cup.

The blond frowned. "Unless you'd like to transform in my living room, I strongly suggest you do as I say." As good as it may have been to have another werewolf in his apartment, Sanji didn't feel like having an _actual_ wolf in his apartment. That was the most sarcastic reasoning he could think up for himself while trying to remain level-headed. The smell of Zoro's wolf side was making it hard for the cook to focus.

"What if I don't care?" Zoro snarled, his words slurring around teeth that were too large and too sharp for his human face.

There were a few seconds of silence before Zoro groaned and looked down and Sanji snorted. "Do you realize how stupid that was?" Sanji asked, unimpressed. "I understand that you don't want to be told what to do, but don't say such idiotic things without thinking."

Zoro's face grew red. "Shut up."

"Uh-huh. Drink the damn tea."

That time, Zoro listened. Begrudgingly, yes, but he still drank the tea, and Sanji called that a victory. "Tastes like shit," Zoro observed between sips. Sanji heard the younger man's heart rate slow just a bit. No matter what it tasted like to him, apparently it still worked.

While Zoro hesitantly sipped his tea, Sanji thought through all his techniques that had helped when he wasn't in control. Surely it hadn't been all that long ago, but he was having trouble thinking of anything.

The younger wolf placed the teacup down on the tray with a shaking hand. "It doesn't feel like it's-"

"If you finish that sentence with 'working,' I will find a rolled-up newspaper," Sanji promised, his hand to God. Zoro glared at him, but he didn't try to deny that that's what he was going to say and he didn't try to finish his sentence either. With his threat hanging in the air, Sanji stood. He remembered what it was, now, that had helped him. As he looked at Zoro's physique—by which he meant the toned muscles empowering almost every visible inch of Zoro—he thought maybe he'd found what would really work. "Wait here," he said and left the room to find something he never thought he'd need.

oOo

He was feeling better. Compared to past experiences, he was getting better really fast. He didn't know about the tea or the incense, but he felt improved in Sanji's presence. That was about the most embarrassing thing that had happened to him. And, even as much as he hated to admit it, when Sanji left the room, he panicked more than a little.

The stretch of his skin over his unnatural shoulders started to throb. He felt like his jaw was broken and maybe like he was being hit in the head with a hammer. Perhaps half of it was soreness leftover from the full moon, but the rest, he knew, even without two years and change of references, was the agonizing result of being out of control two nights in a row. Werewolves and all their damn side effects were going to kill him.

"Oi, Marimo-head, I can hear you not breathing in there," Sanji called from the other room.

Zoro's breath left him in a whoosh. Then he pulled it back in, still warm from exhalation, and then he was taking regular, deep breaths. He didn't know much about wolves, but it seemed to him Sanji was playing the alpha. That didn't sit well with him, but there was no arguing against how the pain receded when Sanji so much as spoke. He could rebuild the wolfish pride he didn't actually have later, when he was out of the woods.

"That's better," Sanji complimented as he reentered the room carrying what appeared to be a black gym bag. "You're getting the hang of this _breathing_ thing, aren'tcha?"

Zoro told him to shut up again, but the smile he was receiving for his troubles negated his anger. He hadn't really thought ahead, he realized, feeling far too close to the cook for only having known him for one day. He should have pondered when they met what it would do to him to know another, older wolf. It was obvious now that he was thinking about it. Why couldn't he have predicted that he would get in some way attached to the first werewolf he'd ever met before he came to said werewolf's house?

"Hey." Sanji sat down in front of him and leaned forward, worry in his left eye, hair in his right. "Are you alright? You were kind of spacing," he informed, pulling his mystery bag into his lap without looking away from Zoro.

"Yeah," the swordsman responded, blinking. He was drawing a blank on snarky comments in the face of concern. Zoro hoped the only reason he was so speechless and acting so docile for the blond was because he was in the midst of an unwilling change and unable to focus. It really, _really_ didn't suit him, he decided. "What, uh... What's that?" Zoro asked.

Sanji appeared to be grinding his teeth behind his lips, but Zoro couldn't hear to know for sure over the sound of his own pulse. When he noticed Zoro watching him, Sanji blinked, paused for a beat, and then he grinned. "Dumbbells," he answered, unzipping his bag and pulling from it two pink, twenty pound weights. Sanji held them up with a childish smirk. "These are for you."

Pink. Dumbbells. Dumbbells? Why in holy hell was Zoro being presented with pink dumbbells?

"Don't look so confused. I can see those biceps, asshole," Sanji said, leveling an unimpressed stare at Zoro.

He did not like that much at all. "I'm not confused about how to use them," Zoro snapped, "the only point I'm confused on is why you, skin with hair, think I need to work out!"

"I didn't say that," Sanji told him, looking him up and down with the weirdest appraising look he'd ever received from a man. Suddenly, the atmosphere seemed very awkward. Sanji didn't appear to have noticed the atmosphere. "I'm just telling you to use them. When I was a youngster, oh, many years ago, when I had little control over my furry, carnivorous side, exercising helped me calm down and regain control. Given your... body type, I'd say this is just the thing for you."

Zoro could not decide between the appraising look and the thoughtfulness which was more disconcerting. He was leaning towards the thoughtfulness. It was weird and nice at the same time. He didn't know what to think of that, or how Sanji seemed to know so much about him already. Zoro kind of didn't want to know, even though the older werewolf made it seem like the answer was simple.

"Thanks," Zoro said after a while, at a loss as to what else he could say. He accepted the weights with a confused grimace. For a moment, how to use them seeped out of his brain and he just sat there, one pink dumbbell in each hand. Then he lifted them up high above his head with no resistance from his shifting muscles. That was not going to work, he decided. He hadn't lifted such small weights since he was eight. They would be of no use to him.

"You could at least pretend to find value in my help," Sanji told Zoro with an irked eye roll. The green-haired werewolf snorted and Sanji stood. "I get it. You don't want my help," the cook said, putting his hands up in surrender and pacing off into the kitchen. "Fine. Do it yourself. I'll mind my own _old_ business in here."

And then he couldn't breathe. His knees snapped backwards, his shoulder blades shot out, his intestines did some kind of exotic dance that brought his last meal up into his throat. In less than five seconds, Zoro was crippled on the floor with pink dumbbells on either side of his head on the floor, using all his energy to not vomit.

Zoro's vision was swimming, but he knew it when Sanji came back to his side. His sense of smell was wavering between acute and shitty, which only served to make him dizzier; overloaded him with the smell of Sanji that somehow enveloped him. All his appendages that he could feel gave a spontaneous crack and Zoro bit back a howl. Sanji was talking to him in a cloudy mush of indistinct noises; he could barely hear anything at all, let alone discern what was being said.

Fur sprouted first along his jaw, and then it started growing on his spine. He could feel the itching everywhere, even though fur was usually one of the last things to happen and he was still, for the most part, human. A boiling tremor struck him and he began to convulse on the floor in his terrible change. So much was happening that Zoro didn't know what to think about or do, or even how much time had passed.

But then all of it stopped. His lungs exploded out with air, in a regular human lung-shape, and the pain was gone so suddenly that he wasn't sure if it was really over. His muscles were all tensed and it took him several long seconds to just let go, to not be on edge, and then even longer to figure out why. Zoro couldn't think of anything other than not hurting for a long, long few minutes.

"Are you alright?" Sanji asked, squeezing where he apparently had a hold of Zoro's shoulder. "That was so sudden. I thought you'd really transform in my living room," he said, almost rambling, looking down at Zoro with wide eyes. As Zoro's senses cleared, he could smell the sweat on Sanji; on himself. "Even though I offered that suggestion, really... don't. That wouldn't benefit either of us," the cook finished.

Zoro exhaled heavily. "Just shut up a minute," he groaned, rolling his weight onto his palms. Everything in him seemed to give a great flop as he turned over and pushed himself up. He'd had spontaneous and excruciating changes before, but that one seemed to him the most surprising. It didn't make any sense. But he didn't figure there was much sense to be had in becoming a giant dog once a month, so he put off thinking about it.

"If it takes this long to answer whether you're okay or not, then maybe you need more help than I can provide," Sanji said, equal parts sarcastic and anxious, Zoro thought.

As Zoro sat up and leaned back against the front of the couch, exhausted, he shook his head lightly. "I'm fine. Don't get your panties in a wad, spiral face, this happens all the time," he grunted, still relaxing his tense muscles and settling his jumpy nerves.

"Spiral face?" Sanji questioned, utterly unimpressed. "That was creative." The blond looked Zoro over and the flat look turned soft around the edges. "Are you sure you're okay?"

oOo

Zoro glared at him, but Sanji wasn't going to just leave him be. He'd growl if that's what he had to do to get an answer. Zoro seemed to listen to Sanji's wolfish tones more than his human words, anyway. All the cook had in his corner at the moment was large, furry seniority, so if that didn't work he would be out of options. But it looked like Zoro wasn't going to let it get that far.

"I'm as sure as I _can_ be," Zoro answered vaguely and looked away.

Sanji wanted to press him. He almost did. But then he remembered one full moon when he'd had no control to speak of and the subsequent evening when he had caught the scent of somebody's barbecue and how he felt like he would explode trying not to change into a werewolf and storm into some stranger's backyard. That was one of the worst days of his life. He wouldn't want to be grilled about that night and, if he was, he probably wouldn't answer, no matter who was asking. "Sorry," Sanji apologized after a while and that was all he could say.

"'S fine..." Zoro gave him a weird look, but did not say anything more. They sat there in silence surrounded by the smell of delicate incense. It was an odd situation they were in. Sanji would even go so far as to say it was unprecedented. There was no way he could think of to proceed. There were no words he could think of to say.

It seemed like they'd been sitting there for days before Sanji moved. He stood up and his knees gave a crack of protest and relief at the same time. Then he gathered up the dishes with an awkward feeling and headed towards the kitchen once more, very cautiously. After all, the last time he'd gone in there, he'd almost had a giant wolf in his living room floor. "So," Sanji began with a slight pause, "are you going to stay for dinner?"

He didn't look back at Zoro because his face had spontaneously combusted, but he didn't have to look back. The cook could hear the elevated pulse of a flustered man on the verge of saying "yes." Sanji bit the smirk on his lip as he set the tray down on the counter.

"I'm only in town for a day," Zoro called louder than necessary.

Sanji was, suffice to say, not happy to hear that. "I didn't ask how long you're in town for," Sanji reminded Zoro. "I only want to know about your plans for this evening."

The green-haired man built a silence in the apartment like the Great Wall of China, it seemed. Sanji didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad sign. _So much for certainty_, he thought.

"I shouldn't," Zoro muttered, clear as day to Sanji's ears. Before the blond could protest, he amended, "I should leave, but I _am_ hungry..."

His elation at company for dinner was more than he would've liked, but he couldn't help himself. He just really liked Zoro, even if he seemed annoying and stubborn and it had only been almost a day that they'd known each other. He decided to blame pack mentality. "Good," Sanji said in the most neutral tone possible, nodding to himself.

From the other room, which was not a stretch for Sanji's supernatural senses, he heard Zoro laugh through his nose. "Why is it good that I'm gonna eat your food and maybe crash on your couch?" the green-haired man asked in good humor.

Sanji snorted. He did not know the answer off the top of his head, but he was going to pretend he did. "'Cause I didn't feel like washing dishes tonight, idiot," he said smoothly and Zoro laughed again. Sanji thanked his lucky stars that Zoro seemed to buy that.

Half an hour later, they were sitting informally at Sanji's coffee table eating leftover miso soup and an odd combination of veggies and meats that Sanji had been planning to test out for a week. It was something of a strange dinner, but not because of the food. They sat in an awkward silence; or at least, that's how Sanji interpreted it.

He couldn't think of a thing to talk about that they would have in common that wouldn't trigger any outburst of anger or fur. Every few minutes, Zoro would put down his utensil and make like he was going to say something, and then he would just kind of simmer down into still silence again. If Sanji had had the mind to, he would've asked what Zoro had been about to say. But, as evidenced by his continued speechlessness, Sanji no longer had a mind.

To his non-memory, since he didn't have a mind to store memories in, this was the most awkward evening he'd ever sat through.

After another awkward period, Sanji cleared his throat. "So, uh, what do you do for a living?" he asked and then he dropped his head nearly to the table, realizing how generic and insincere that sounded. "You don't have to answer that. Sorry."

"Nah," Zoro said over his apology, sounding perhaps overeager to answer such a simple question. "It's fine. I haven't had a job in a little over four months, 'cause, y'know… But I used to work contracts and shit. Do the hardest possible jobs for the shortest possible times and move on… I guess I travelled around back then, like I do now." Zoro seemed to think of something just then, his eyes bugging out a bit. "Shit, my stuff!" he whispered urgently and stood up so quickly he kneed the table and jostled the soup bowls.

Sanji stood as well. "What?" he questioned, not quite registering what Zoro had said or how they'd gotten there from their awkward but functioning conversation.

Zoro leapt towards the door, bumping into the armchair and tripping on the carpet. He fell against the door with a hard thud, but he'd pushed away and wrenched it open before Sanji could ask if he was okay. "It's still here!" Zoro exclaimed, nothing but his fingertips visible around the door. "I completely forgot!"

"What is it?" Sanji called, taking long strides towards Zoro's relieved voice. He heard a sound he recognized but couldn't quite place the moment before he, too, stepped out his front door and into the hall.

Zoro was squatting in front of a hard leather case on the floor that, if Sanji had to guess, looked like it housed a violin or some similarly sized instrument. But that was wrong, he learned shortly. Inside the case, which Zoro was poring over with great care, was a pair of sweatpants; Sanji's own from that morning if his memory held any truth. "Better be fine," Zoro muttered to himself, unraveling the sweatpants carefully in his hands. In the middle of the dark grey fabric was a trio of swords which Sanji was surprised to see, to say the least. Zoro, however, seemed very much like he had been expecting them to be there and also quite like they thrilled his soul. In some deep, mysterious part of his mind, Sanji knew that to be true. "There… All accounted for. I can't believe I forgot these," Zoro sighed, studying the swords with bright eyes.

"Swords?" Sanji puzzled aloud. "Why the hell do you have swords in a case? No—to shit with that—why do you have swords at all?"

The green-haired man, thoroughly a mystery to Sanji apart from their shared interest in howling at the moon every month, laughed. He actually laughed, as if it were a stupid question. "In case I get mugged," he said, heavy on the sarcasm. "Why do you think? I'm a swordsman."

It was Sanji's turn to laugh, but the sound was somewhat without humor. "That's kind of old-fashioned, don't you think? And inconvenient, if you don't mind my saying. Good grief," Sanji puttered on, sounding a bit like he'd lost his marbles. He supposed he shouldn't be so surprised, since Zoro was hardly the most normal man he'd ever met, but there was something a little dumbfounding about seeing swords bundled up in one's sweatpants in the middle of one's perfectly normal apartment hallway.

Zoro shut and sealed the case and then he stood up with it and gave Sanji a look. They just kind of stared at each other for a minute, a very uncomfortable minute on Sanji's end at least, and then Zoro held something out to him. "Your pants," Zoro explained when Sanji looked down at the article in a strange daze. "They made my swords smell shitty."

That seemed quite a startling thing to Sanji. It was stupid and he knew it, so he kept himself from saying, but he liked Zoro's smell. He liked Zoro's smell a lot. He didn't know what it was about that one scent out of every scent floating around at any given time, but it just made cheesy sonnets and similarly cute and corny things jump to mind. _Oh, God, I need my brain checked_, he thought, frowning at the recollection of his very recent mushiness of all kinds. "Sorry about that," Sanji mumbled idly as some sort of response that he wasn't quite sure he meant.

The younger wolf gave him another look. "It's fine," Zoro said with slightly narrowed eyes and hesitance. Zoro looked around the hall a little awkwardly, and then he looked back at Sanji. "Uh… Can I come back in…? With my swords, I mean… Is that okay?"

oOo

He wasn't moving. He probably wasn't listening either. What had gone wrong? Of course Zoro's swords had a way of rendering people speechless, but he thought Sanji's reaction was too extreme. It wasn't so surprising, Zoro decided, and it wasn't polite at all to just stand and stare into space. "Oi," Zoro said, waving a hand in front of Sanji's face. "I said 'can I come in?'"

Sanji blinked and inhaled loudly, coming back to himself. "Yeah. Yeah, please, come in," he uttered quickly and pushed open the door. He was smiling then, but Zoro couldn't find truth in the smile. Something was up. _He'd_ done something. Of _course_ he had.

Zoro stepped past Sanji into the apartment with a muttered "thanks" and the blond followed close behind. Sanji started on about something or other, but Zoro had a more important subject to think on. What had he said or done that had made Sanji zone out? Zoro wasn't too into the nicety-nice, but he didn't want to offend him.

"You tired?" Sanji asked over his shoulder as he wandered into the depths of the apartment and out of sight. "There's only one bedroom, but the couch should be big enough for you and all your excessive muscle."

The swordsman narrowed his eyes, surveying the living area for any kind of clue as to what he'd done. Of course, there were none. "Who says I'm staying over?" Zoro asked, stepping over to a hanging picture that appeared to be a few years old of Sanji and an older man that had a weird moustache. Zoro was not debating the point; there was no question that he would stay the night. He only wanted to stall or interrogate or whatever the hell would get him to the answer about what he'd done wrong.

"That would be you, idiot," the blond called, perhaps from far enough away to sound muffled to a normal human. Zoro wished he could claim not having heard. But that would be impossible, not only because Sanji knew he was a werewolf, but also because he clearly remembered saying something about crashing on Sanji's couch.

"Right," Zoro called back and then, a second later, noticed the insult. "Hey! I'm not an idiot! I never said 'absolutely, yeah, I'm staying here,' I only suggested the idea!"

Sanji reappeared in the hallway holding what appeared to be two blankets and a pair of pajama pants. He was grinning, but it seemed wrong. Arrogant? Sure. Typical? Very. But, there was something different about the smirk that made him uneasy. "So?" Sanji asked with what Zoro thought was hollow confidence. "Are you staying?"

The swordsman pretended he had to consider it for a moment. "It's kinda late to find a good room at an inn," Zoro grumbled, rolling his eyes away from the blond and fighting to sound as unwilling as possible. "I guess I'll stay."

Sanji gave a more honest smile and a snippy remark Zoro purposely did not hear. Zoro knew Sanji was putting up a gruff disposition, pretending that he was still annoyed with or bothered by Zoro's presence, but the swordsman could see right past it. Zoro was beginning to see hope in their association, even as Sanji called him a liar and an idiot. He would just have to figure out what he'd done wrong so that he could be sure to never do it again.

**Oh, dear, what has happened now? I mean, my goodness! It's a little hard to follow, yeah? Well, next chapter should clear things up. ;)**


End file.
